


Anata

by TheVampireLucinda



Series: You [2]
Category: Professional Wrestling, 新日本プロレス | New Japan Pro-Wrestling
Genre: Anger, Angst, Broken Promises, Hatred, Love, M/M, Pain, Slash, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-18 17:58:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11879808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheVampireLucinda/pseuds/TheVampireLucinda
Summary: “Love is a promise, love is a souvenir, once given never forgotten, never let it disappear.” (John Lennon) Takes place after the G127 finals. Omega POV. Part 2 of the “You" series.





	Anata

Why did it have to be you?

Always there, when I need you the most.

I _want_ to be angry; I _am_ angry. _Angry_ doesn't even begin to describe what I feel.

I could kill you, you know. Right now, as tired as I am. With my bare hands. Spill your blood all over this hallway.

“He frightens me,” you said. Good. You should be scared.

But I could never hate you, could I?

Even though you left me, even though you abandoned me.

_Only you._

So, why?! Why is it that when I see you, I feel like I'm going to collapse?! Your fucking _face_ , showing me so much sympathy and concern.

Why do you look like you're in pain, too?

And why did you touch me? Your hand— _fuck, I've missed you_ —so naturally came to rest over my heart.

I thought you were scared...?

I wanted to push you away, break your fingers, slam you into the wall.

But I couldn't. And I found myself reaching for your hands as the voices in the background faded into nothing.

For the briefest of seconds, I was so happy.

_It's always been you._

But Naito's fucking music playing in the background brings me back to reality.

And Matt and Nick are worried; I can feel their confusion and concern radiating off their bodies as they hover near by.

_I can't. I'm sorry._

It took all of my strength to push away from you. To throw your damn little towel on the ground.

To walk away and only look back once.

For a second, I see the same pain that I've felt since we split reflected on _your_ face.  
It's not nearly as satisfying as I had expected.

And why I am crying, now, too?

“Fuck this shit.”

It's just me, and the Bucks, and a shit ton of reporters now.

This part I can do. This part makes sense. I can talk, and make them care, and make them wonder, and remind them that even though I lost, I'm still the greatest thing in wrestling. Me, Kenny Omega vs. The Whole Damn World.

But, that's a lie, isn't? There is no “me.” There is no “world.”

_Always._

_Ever._

_Only._

_You._

 


End file.
